Tag: antiracism

  • The Covenant of Martin Luther King

    A sermon in honor of the 80th birthday of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and in honor of the historic inauguration of Barack Obama, the first African American president of the United States.

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper at First Unitarian Church in New Bedford. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained improvisation and extemporaneous remarks. Sermon copyright (c) 2009 Daniel Harper.

    Readings

    The first reading this morning is a responsive reading.

    As we get ready to inaugurate the first Black president of the United States, we read together these words by Frederick Douglass: “We deem it a settled point that the destiny of the colored people of this country is bound up with that of the white people of this country.

    We are here, and here we are likely to be. To imagine that we shall ever be eradicated is absurd and ridiculous.

    We can be remodified, changed, assimilated, but never extinguished.

    We repeat, therefore, that we are here; and that this is our country; and the question for the philosophers and statesmen of the land ought to be, What principles should dictate the policy of the action toward us?

    We shall neither die out, nor be driven out;

    But shall go with this people, either as a testimony against them, or as an evidence in their favor throughout their generations.”

    [Adapted from an essay by Frederick Douglass in North Star (November 1858); as quoted in Faces at the Bottom of the Well: The Permanence of Racism (1992), Derrick Bell, p. 40.]

    The second reading this morning is from “Strength To Love,” a sermon by Martin Luther King on Luke 10.29, “And who is my neighbor?” In the sermon, Rev. King takes that question that Jesus was asked, and asks that same question of race relations in the United States in the 1960s.

    “…[W]e must admit that the ultimate solution to the race problem lies in the willingness of men to obey the unenforceable. Court orders and federal enforcement agencies are of inestimable value in achieving desegregation, but desegregation is only a partial, though necessary, step towards the final goal which we seek to realize, genuine inter-group and interpersonal living. Desegregation will break down the legal barriers and bring men together physically, but something must touch the eharts and souls of men so that they will come together spiritually because it is natural and right. A vigorous enforcement of civil rights laws will bring an end to segregated public facilities which are barriers to a truly desegregated society, but it cannot bring an end to fears, prejudice, pride, and irrationality, which are the barriers to a truly integrated society. These dark and demonic responses will be removed only as men are possessed by the invisible, inner law which etches on their hearts the conviction that all men are brothers and that love in mankind’s most potent weapon for personal and social transformation. True integration will be achieved by true neighbors who are willingly obedient to unenforceable obligations.”

    [From “Strength to Love,” Martin Luther King (Fortress Press, 1981), pp. 37-38.]

    Sermon “The Covenant of Martin Luther King”

    This month I have been preaching a series of sermons on the topic of covenant. We in this church have a deep and immediate interest in this topic: first because in our religious traditions, churches are organized around their covenants; and second because in our own church here in New Bedford, we are in the process of writing a new church covenant. To write a new church covenant — that is a task of great moment. We do not rewrite our covenants very often. In our own church, during the whole of the 19th century, we rewrote our covenant perhaps twice; and in the 20th century, we did not have a written covenant, perhaps because it seemed so overwhelming to try to put our implicit covenant into writing. So it has been a century and a half since we last rewrote our covenant; and because of this, I devoted the first two sermons of this year to our own church covenant.

    But there are covenants that extend far beyond our church community. Some would argue that the great religious traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are all founded on the covenant of Abraham; and that being so, then perhaps two billion people are still a part of that Abrahamic covenant. This morning I would like to speak with you about a covenant that is not quite so broad as that; but it is a covenant that extends far beyond our own church. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. helped us understand a covenant that exists in the United States — a covenant that had consisted mostly of broken promises. He spoke to us all about this covenant, he gently encouraged us to acknowledge the broken promises, and he has moved us to repair these broken promises, to repair this covenant. We are still engaged in repairing this national covenant. We most often hear this national covenant summed up in the words from the Declaration of Independence, that “all men are created equal.”

    I would like to speak with you about how Martin Luther King articulated, and reinvigorated, our national covenant. More particularly, I would like to speak with you about the tremendous progress we have made in reinstating that covenant in the past year.

    1. When Martin Luther King delivered his famous “I Have a Dream” speech in 1963, he said: “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’” But Rev. King also said: “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” This second statement is another way of putting of our national covenant; but it is, I think, a fuller, more comprehensive statement of a fundamental principle of our country. From a religious and moral perspective, Rev. King was telling us that we are not merely created equal; at a deeper level, we find our destinies tied together, so that if any one of us is treated unjustly, justice for all the rest of us is threatened.

    From our own religious perspective, when we hear the words “inescapable network of mutuality,” we are likely to think of what we call the Web of Life; we know that all human beings, all living beings, indeed all nonliving things, in this universe are tied together in a web of interrelationships; and when we act, we must be conscious of how our action affects the entire Web of Life. Jesus of Nazareth used a different term: Jesus spoke of the Kingdom of Heaven, which is the underlying reality of the here and now in which we are all connected, one with the other, so that we must love our neighbors as ourselves, for in truth we are so interconnected that the way we treat our neighbors is in fact the way we treat our own selves.

    Rev. King drew on many religious sources to help him articulate various aspects of our national covenant. When he accepted the Nobel Prize, he drew on the story of Moses, saying: “Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself. The Bible tells the thrilling story of how Moses stood in Pharaoh’s court centuries ago and cried, “Let my people go.” This is a kind of opening chapter in a continuing story. The present struggle in the United States is a later chapter in the same unfolding story.” As Moses had a covenant with his god to lead the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt, so we know that Martin Luther King led Americans of African descent out of the bondage of segregation and racism; and like Moses, Martin Luther King died before he saw the Promised Land of freedom. The story of Moses is a powerful story because it reminds us that it is hard work to get out of bondage; just because you start the journey to freedom doesn’t mean you’ll see its end; it took the Israelites forty years to get to the Promised Land, and even then their troubles continued for centuries.

    But I believe the real center of what Rev. King taught us about covenant was not what he taught us through the story of Moses, powerful as the Moses story may be. For at the center of Rev. King’s message were the teachings of Jesus. Jesus said that all of religion could be summed up in two commandments, the second of which was that we should love our neighbors as ourselves. And that is why, again and again, Rev. King asked us to consider this question: Who is our neighbor?

    Who is our neighbor? One day, so we are told, a lawyer approached Jesus. Now remember, Jesus was Jewish, and this lawyer was Jewish, and Jews take their religious laws seriously. Jesus asked the lawyer to summarize the religious laws of Judaism. The lawyer gave the correct answer, which was “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus agreed that was the correct response. Then the lawyer asked, “Who is my neighbor?”

    That’s the key question, isn’t it? Like the lawyer, we all know we are supposed to treat our neighbors well. But who is our neighbor? To answer this question, Jesus told a story.

    One day, a man from Jerusalem was going from Jerusalem down to the city of Jericho, along a steep, winding, dangerous road. The man was ambushed by robbers. The robbers beat him till he was bloody, took his money, and left him by the side of the road, bruised and unable to move.

    Soon a priest from the great Temple at Jerusalem came down the road. The priest saw the man lying there, but instead of stopping to help him, the priest looked the other way and hurried on by.

    Then a Levite came down the same road. Levites were important officials at the great Temple at Jerusalem. Like the priest, the Levite took one look at the poor man lying by the side of the road, looked the other way, and hurried on by.

    Then a man from Samaria, a Samaritan, came walking along the road. The Samaritans were a despised ethnic and religious group; where the priests and the Levites were respected and honored, the Samaritans were disliked and shunned. When Jesus told this story, he knew that his listeners would immediately assume that the Samaritan, too, would walk past the man lying in the gutter; or even kick him while he was down.

    But that’s not what happens in Jesus’s story. The Samaritan was moved to pity at the sight of the beaten, robbed man lying in the gutter, and bandaged his wounds. The Samaritan hoisted the beaten, robbed man onto his donkey, brought him to an inn, paid all the bills, and looked after him. The next day, the Samaritan went to the innkeeper and said, “Look after that man until he gets better. On my way back, I’ll make sure to pay you back if there’s any extra expense.”

    This is how Jesus answered the question: Who is our neighbor?

    Rev. King tells this story with great richness and depth. When Rev. King tells us this old story, we know he’s telling us that White folks should see Black folks as their neighbor; and we know that he’s telling us that Black folks should see White folks as their neighbors, even though the White folks have been treating them as badly as the Samaritans two thousand years ago.

    But there is far more to this story when Rev. King tells it, for in his own way Rev. King was a poet, and poetry always goes beyond the mere surface meaning. The way Rev. King tells the story, we feel that the Black folks, like the Samaritan, were the best of neighbors to the White folks; but not the other way around. Frederick Douglass wrote: “We [those of us who are Black] shall neither die out, nor be driven out; but shall go with this people, either as a testimony against them, or as an evidence in their favor throughout their generations.” Rev. King managed to tell those of us who are White folks, in a gentle kind of way, the same thing that Frederick Douglass said: that the status of Black folks stood as testimony against us White folks. This may have been painful to us White folks; we may have wished we could cross to the other side of the street and avert our eyes, as did the priest and the Levite in Jesus’s story. But like all good preachers, Rev. King made a moral point: Our country was like the man lying in the ditch, morally speaking: our country had been unspeakably damaged by the evils of slavery and racism; and we needed to address this immorality.

    Who is our neighbor? Well, we know the answer to that: everyone, people of all skin colors. And who is our neighbor? And we know another answer to that question: the neighbor is the person who attempts to heal the broken condition of the man lying in the ditch. And who is our neighbor? And we come to realize that we are all neighbors, we are all interconnected; and with that realization, we begin to take responsibility to care for all our neighbors; we are all part of the inescapable network of mutuality; we are all part of the Web of Life.

    2. Nearly two years ago, we began to hear about this man named Barack Obama who was running for president. The pundits quietly told us that we could safely ignore this Obama fellow, because he was too inexperienced, which sometimes was a way of saying that a Black man couldn’t be president. Not yet, anyway. Obama and his supporters did not listen to the pundits, and they were organized, articulate, and they didn’t talk down to us. On March 18, 2008, not quite a year ago, Barack Obama gave a speech titled “A More Perfect Union.” In that speech, he responded to some racially-charged criticism, and he said in part: “I have asserted a firm conviction — a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people — that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice if we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.” Obama said, in effect: we need to see each other as neighbors; it’s time to stop fighting with our neighbors, or ignoring them, and instead bend down and pick up the man in the ditch.

    I heard that speech as recalling us to our national covenant. Fighting with our neighbors get us nowhere. Pretending that racism doesn’t exist gets us nowhere. To have this public figure, this politician, acknowledge to us that race and racism are real; and say at the same time that we need to move beyond race and racism; this was a remarkable moment when a politician reminded us, not of our self-interest, but of our covenant together.

    We needed this reminder. In spite of Martin Luther King’s legacy, we have not always acted like good neighbors over the past forty years. Race relations got a little better for a while, but beginning in the 1980s, in many ways racism got steadily worse. Schools are more desegregated now than at any time since Rev. King was alive. We got distracted by naked self-interest. Some politicians proclaimed that racism is done with, it’s over, we can move on — while our own eyes told us that racism still exists, it is not gone.

    What Barack Obama’s speech on March 18 of last year said to us was simple: In order to move forward, yes, we do need to acknowledge that the American covenant has repeatedly been broken in the past, and over and over again our country has not treated all people equally; but we also must acknowledge that our national covenant still exists. That speech last March acknowledged that no, we’re not going to end racism tomorrow; but Obama also reminded us that we can treat each other more like neighbors.

    The remarkable thing, however, was not Obama’s speech — good as that speech was. The remarkable thing was that most Americans understood his speech. Not everyone liked what he had to say, and some Americans remain frozen in naked self-interest, but I think almost all Americans understood what he said, and we recognized the truth and justice of what he said. Since the 1980s, politicians have been dumbing down their messages to us Americans; they have been treating us like children, and all too often we have acted like greedy ill-behaved children. But when someone finally talked to us like adults, when someone finally talked to us about race and racism in all its complexity — we responded thoughtfully.

    Not only did we respond thoughtfully, but the American electorate responded favorably to Barack Obama. We heard what he said, and the majority of us agreed that it’s time to move forward, it’s time to get our national covenant up and running again. And so our country elected Obama as president with a healthy margin. The pundits were proved wrong: a Black man could be elected president of our country, and was elected president.

    And so it is I feel that we are witnessing a huge change in our nation.

    We are renewing our national covenant: a covenant that all persons shall be considered equal. We are asking ourselves: Who is our neighbor? And we are responding: we are all each other’s neighbors.

    We are renewing our national covenant. Our country has been morally degraded, first by slavery, and then by racism. Racism eats away at our national conscience. We may not admit it in public, but we know that other countries are disgusted by the racism that is still endemic in our country; we try to ignore their disgust, but we know it’s there. We try to make up for our moral failing by taking the moral high ground in other areas: for example, we have taken the moral high ground against terrorism, even while we cannot admit our moral failings when it comes to race. And so, while we don’t admit it publicly, we have been ashamed at the moral failing of racism.

    To elect a Black president has gone a long way to healing the national sense of shame. When we feel shame, it can paralyze us; so it is important to heal from that sense of shame. We know we still have plenty of work to do end racism, but now we have renewed energy to do that work. Whether we agree with Obama’s politics or not — I’m sure we all have reservations about some specific directions he is taking — we know that what’s happening now is bigger than one man; it’s bigger than partisan politics. We have elected have a Black president of the United States; and through that simple action, we should feel that our national covenant has been renewed. We are again committing ourselves to the dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all people are created equal.”

    ———

    The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was born on January 15, 1928. He would have been 80 years old this past Thursday. As we celebrate his birthday this week, I feel we now can remember Rev. King best by living in the present, and looking to the future.

    We shall live in the present: In two days, we will inaugurate have a Black president. Let us decide that this is a renewal of our national covenant; let this renewal re-energize us to live out our dream that we will live out our belief that all persons are created equal. We know there is hard work in front of us, but may we work together as neighbors to finally end racism and heal race relations.

    We shall look to the future: Of course we don’t know how the Obama presidency will work out. But we are less interested in politics this morning than in morality. Let our national morality came back into wholeness. May ours become a nation where we live out our ideals, that all persons are created equal. May the words of the Hebrew prophet Amos come true at last: “Let justice roll down as waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” [Amos 5.24]

  • After the Election

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper at First Unitarian Church in New Bedford. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained many extemporaneous remarks and improvisation. Sermon copyright (c) 2008 Daniel Harper.

    Readings

    The first reading comes from the BBC Web site, from a piece titled “From Our Own Correspondent: The greatest political show on earth,” by Justin Webb, dated Saturday, 1 November 2008. Reflecting on the importance of this U.S. political campaign as Election Day approached, Webb told an anecdote from August when he was in Denver, at the Democratic national convention, and he saw a motorcade begin to form…

    “Suddenly, in front of me there is activity. Men in grey suits are talking into their sleeves. Huge, sleek cars are being revved. Motorbikes are getting into formation.

    “It is not [Barack Obama], it is his family.

    “As the SUVs pass — including several with the doors and back windows open, men with large automatic weapons looking out with keen hard glares — I catch just a glimpse of the children, of 10-year-old Malia and seven-year-old Sasha peering out. I think their mother was sitting in the middle.

    “This is the true revolution.

    “There have been, after all, prominent black politicians for decades now, men and women afforded the full protection and respect that the nation can muster.

    “But seeing little black children gathered up into the arms of the secret service, surrounded by people who would die rather than let them die, is to see something that must truly make the racists of Americas past revolve in their graves.

    “I do not think Barack Obama will win or lose [the election] because of his race, but if he does win, the real moment you will know that America has changed is not when he takes the oath, but when we see pictures of tiny people padding along the White House corridors — a black First Family — representing America and American-ness.”

    [Site accessed 8 November 2008.]

    The second reading was a responsive reading from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, #584 “A Network of Mutuality,” adapted from a passage by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. which begins as follows:

    “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny….”

    Sermon

    I have been planning to do a sermon for the 300th anniversary of our church, a sermon on how our church has used covenants as the central principle of our religious community, but somehow it seems that every time I schedule such a sermon, the outside world intervenes. Last time I planned to preach a sermon on covenants in our church, there was a global financial crisis. And this week, there was a historic election which seemed to me to require extended reflection in a sermon. However, Fred Gifun pointed something out to me — even though we will end our official celebration of our church’s 300th anniversary at the end of this calendar year, really our church was established in June of 1708, which means that we can keep on talking about our 300th anniversary for a full year thereafter. After all, a 300th anniversary is a big event, and it seems a shame to stop the celebration early. So I promise I will get to that sermon on covenant before next June….

    But this morning I would like to speak with you about the recently concluded election. It feels as though this past week’s election represents something of a change in the popular consciousness or mythology of the United States. When I say it represents something of a change in the popular consciousness of the United States, I do not mean to imply that the election was some kind of “victory” for the Democratic party. I have no interest in preaching about how some political party has achieved some kind of “victory” over another political party, because from a religious point of view such partisan “victories” are pretty much meaningless; from a religious point of view, I don’t care about one party “winning” and another party “losing.” No, I’m not much interested in political parties, but I believe we are seeing a change in the American popular mythology, and this is a legitimate topic to contemplate in a sermon.

    I believe we are witnessing at least three changes in our collective popular mythology:– First, we now have a president-elect who is black and who is the son of an immigrant, and that is a big change in the evolving American mythology of who is a “real American.” Second, I believe we are witnessing a shift away from selfishness as the highest value, and that represents a change in the evolving mythology of American individualism. Third, I believe we have witnessed the ascendancy of pragmatism over eye ideology, that is, a change from the American mythology of the past few years that ignored facts if the facts weren’t matching up to one’s ideas.

    1. Let me begin by talking about Barack Obama. I’m not going to talk about his politics, nor am I going to talk about his political party. Even though the not-yet-official election of Obama to the presidency of this country has given great joy to the Democratic party faithful, as I said before I’m not particularly interested in partisan politics, so I don’t particularly care one way or the other that there will be a Democrat in the White House. But I do care that the president-elect is black, that he is the son of an immigrant; and I also care that he comes out of the non-profit world.

    I will begin with the fact the Barack Obama is black, and perhaps more importantly that his family is black. The family of the president has taken on a peculiar role in the popular consciousness of this country. Long before I was born, there was Franklin Roosevelt’s wife Eleanor Roosevelt, who with her prominent leadership in promoting the New Deal and her advocacy of civil rights for African Americans created a myth of a strong, altruistic American woman. Then in the early 1960s — I’m too young to remember it — I’ve seen the photographs of the glamourous wife and small children of John F. Kennedy, and I’ve read about how the White House of those days was referred to as the mythical Camelot. Then there Chelsea Clinton, who was twelve years old when her father was elected president, and who had to endure all the publicity surrounding her father’s much-publicized affair with a young White House intern, and made us think about what happens to children when their parents misbehave. And then, heaven help them, there were the poor teenaged twins Jenna and Barbara Bush, who had the misfortune to get busted for underage drinking when their father was president, which certainly played into all kinds of mythical ideas about American teenagers. For most of us, the mention of these things brings up powerful images in our mind’s eye; and I think these images we have reveal very little about the flesh-and-blood people who have lived in the White House, but a great deal about our myths surrounding American families.

    As of January 20, 2009, we’ll have another set of images to add to the popular mythology of the American family. I’ll bet we are going to be seeing a good many images of Mahlia and Sasha Obama. I don’t think Barack Obama is going to change people’s consciousnesses as much as Mahlia and Sasha Obama are going to change people’s consciousnesses. Mahlia and Sasha’s father said he is going to give them a puppy when they move into the White House, and if you don’t think that we’re going to be inundated with pictures of those two children playing with a puppy, then you’re crazy. And those super-cute pictures of two cute black children playing with a cute little puppy in the White House are going to work their mythical magic on our popular consciousness in ways that we can’t even imagine right now.

    We have an American myth that anyone can make it in America, that even a new immigrant can become rich and powerful. But we have had another, more complicated, myth about who it is we regard as a “real American,” and this second more complicated myth gives us different levels of American realness. The realest Americans (or is that the most real Americans? — what is the comparative of an absolute?) — the realest Americans are the white people who came over on the Mayflower. This group has shifting boundaries, though — I was allegedly a member of this group until a few years ago when the Society of Mayflower Descendants fortuitously decided that it was flawed genealogical evidence by which my family could have claimed a link to someone who came over on the Mayflower;– which means, I suppose, I am no longer quite as real an American as I once was. Curiously, Mayflower descendants somehow seem to have more American realness than descendants of the original Indian nations that have existed in America for thousands of years, but maybe that’s because the Indians fought and killed settlers and cowboys and weren’t white. No one said this is rational.

    There used to be many gradations of whiteness, with Mayflowerites and old Virginia families being the most white; and in the last presidential election, George W. Bush and John Kerry were both Mayflower descendants, and therefore tenth cousins. It gets progressively less white and less real from there, so that my Pennsylvania Dutch ancestors were not so white and therefore not so much “real Americans,” especially during the First World War when they had to stop speaking German. It’s so confusing, isn’t it? It’s not just the color of your skin, it’s what your name sounds like, it’s your accent and the language you or your parents speak or spoke, it’s your religion, and it’s the country where your parents or ancestors came from.

    This myth of who constitutes a “real American” keeps changing. That’s what myths do: they are a peculiar kind of truth that changes over time. And right now, the myth of American realness is changing real fast. Now that Barack Hussein Obama is president-elect, he’s clearly a real American, just as real as you can get. Yet he has this funny-sounding name, his father came from Kenya, he’s black, his wife and kids are black, he attended a somewhat questionable liberal church and his father was a Muslim, and when he was a kid he lived in places where they didn’t always speak English. Wait, didn’t all those things used to mean that you weren’t really a real American? But if Barack Obama is now president-elect, that means he’s a real American, which means the myth has changed.

    This is all about myth, so it has no relation to politics. But just because it’s myth and not politics, don’t think it’s any less real. When it comes to myths, it doesn’t matter what political views Obama holds or does not hold. It does matter that he is black, and that his family is black. It does matter that he is the son of an immigrant, and his grandmother still lives in Kenya. It does matter that he considers himself bi-racial and multicultural. And it does matter that he has two really cute daughters who will soon be photographed and videotaped playing with their new puppy in the White House — and those photographs will probably do more to change the myth of what constitutes a real American than anything else.

    So this is the first change we’re seeing in American mythology — a change in how we define a “real American.”

    2. Now let us turn to the myth of selfishness and self-interest, another myth which this election has shown to be changing.

    On October 23, Alan Greenspan, former chair of the Federal Reserve, appeared before Congress to answer questions about the financial meltdown. Here’s how the New York Times business section reported his appearance:

    “On Thursday, almost three years after stepping down as chairman of the Federal Reserve, a humbled Mr. Greenspan admitted that he had put too much faith in the self-correcting power of free markets and had failed to anticipate the self-destructive power of wanton mortgage lending.

    ”  ‘Those of us who have looked to the self-interest of lending institutions to protect shareholders’ equity, myself included, are in a state of shocked disbelief,’ he told the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform.” [“Greenspan Concedes Error on Regulation,” Edmund L. Andrews, New York Times, October 24, 2008, p. B1]

    So wrote the New York Times.

    I don’t want to get into a long discussion of Alan Greenspan’s economic policies, nor am I qualified to do so. But I do want to spend a little bit of time analyzing that quote by Greenspan, where he talks about self-interest. We have had a persistent myth within United States mythology in which self-interest assumes the god-like status of a sacred creed that will solve all our problems. ((Again, no one said this is rational.) According to this persistent myth, the highest virtue is looking out for yourself, and the highest form of individual is the kind of person who is completely self-sufficient. This view is summed up in something written by Ayn Rand, who was one of Alan Greenspan’s idols — Rand wrote, “I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.” Remember, I said this is a myth, and obviously it’s not rational because it’s obviously utter nonsense. Biologically speaking, a young homo sapiens is utterly dependent on its parents for quite a number of years, which means at minimum the survival of the species requires us to live for the sake of babies and children (in this context, I find it significant that Ayn Rand never had children of her own). Evolutionally speaking, homo sapiens evolved not as solitary animals like tigers, but as social animals like monkeys. Ethically and morally speaking, the theory of radical self-interest has been never been a mainstream ethical or moral theory.

    I believe the recent election represents a partial repudiation of the virtue of selfishness in the American mythology. This partial repudiation was quite evident in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, where Question One was defeated. Only thirty percent of the electorate voted in favor of doing away with the state income tax; seventy percent of us realized that our self-interest is well-served by paying taxes to be administered by the Commonwealth.

    This myth of self-interest offers a challenge to us Unitarian Universalists. Because we aren’t tied up with creeds and dogmas, we make a virtue of freedom of thought. Some people, including some Unitarian Universalists, interpret our freedom of thought as a form of ultra-individualism. It goes like this: the lack of creeds and dogmas gets interpreted to mean that “we can believe anything we want,” and that in turn gets interpreted to mean each individual in one of our churches can do anything he or she wants. But this is a misinterpretation of what it means to be a Unitarian Universalist. The mistake comes when you start by saying we have no creed or dogma, which is a negative definition of who we are;– whereas what’s truly important about us comes out in a positive definition: we are a people bound together by covenant, that is, bound together by the promises we make to one another voluntarily; and we are a people who affirm the essential goodness of humanity, which includes the many supporting social structures which help us stay good in the face of temptation.

    I like to think that our religious ideals can lead (and sometimes do lead) to balance between, on the one hand, valuing each person, including ourselves, as an end in themselves, rather as means to someone else’s end; and on the other hand, recognizing the value of the community that supports each individual, recognizing the “inescapable network of mutuality” which binds us together. So it is that we balance individuals as ends in themselves, with the network of mutuality. And so it is that we hope that American mythology is moving away from the excessive selfishness of the past couple of decades towards something better

    3. Finally, let us turn to the myth that ideology should run our nation. In mythological terms, ideology is opposed to pragmatism. The general myth of tells people to stick to their ideas no matter what; don’t get confused by the facts; our country, right or wrong; if the facts contradict ideas, then ignore the facts.

    I’m not a political scientist; my area of expertise is philosophy and theology. I may not be qualified to speak on political matters, but when I look at the behavior of the executive branch of the federal government over the past few years, it is quite clear to me that the executive branch of the government has been dominated by ideologues who don’t want to be confused by facts. I say this knowing too that that the current administration holds weekly Bible studies in the White House,– and we’re not talking about the kind of Bible studies we have here in our church, we’re talking about conservative Christian Bible studies that don’t allow you to question what’s in the Bible. It seems to me that the two go hand in hand: unquestioning Bible study, and unquestioning adherence to certain political ideologies.

    And what is the political ideology that has been blindly followed by the executive branch of the federal government? It seems to me that the current Bush administration adheres to the ideology that government is essentially a bad thing, whereas selfishness is a good thing; this goes back to what we were talking about earlier, an ideology that proclaims the virtue of selfishness, in opposition to the notion that government is an exercise in selflessness. It also seems to me that the current Bush administration represents an attempt to impose the ideology of a certain brand of evangelical, conservative Christianity on an entire nation, a form of Christianity that is opposes abortion, that is anti-gay, and above all that doesn’t believe in providing help or charity to poor people.

    Let me expand on that last point. If you have been watching conservative Christianity over the past few decades, you will have noticed that something called “prosperity Christianity” has dominance. Prosperity Christianity teaches that God wants you to be prosperous, and that if you will just believe in the right kind of God and pray hard, you too will become rich. One scholar of religion defines it this way: “Prosperity Christianity may… be interpreted as a psychological reaction to theological pessimism combined with a willingness to embrace the benefits of rampant American capitalism.” [New Religions: A Guide ed. Christopher Partridge [Oxford, 2004], p. 91] It’s a very convenient kind of religion, because you don’t have to give any of your own money to poor people, you just have to tell them to come to your church, believe in your God, and then they will become rich — and if they don’t come to your church, well I suppose then they deserve their poverty. I’m sure you will notice that prosperity Christianity celebrates the virtue of selfishness.

    The opposite of rigid ideology is pragmatism. Whereas the ideologue believes in ignoring facts and sticking to ideology, the pragmatist believes that when facts contradict a hypothesis, you change the hypothesis in order to take into account the facts. In the world of religion, the ideologues include the fundamentalists who deny the fact of evolution because it doesn’t match their ideology, it doesn’t match their creed. In the world of religion, we Unitarian Universalists would count ourselves among the pragmatists; we were among the first religious movements to acknowledge that Charles Darwin’s theories were correct, and to modify our religious beliefs accordingly. In politics, the ideologues are the dogmatic ones who hold to their political beliefs the way the fundamentalists hold on to their religious beliefs. The political pragmatists, on the other hand, do have high ideals but they recognize the need to modify their behavior when circumstances dictate. From my vantage point, both major presidential candidates were more pragmatic than ideological. Both John McCain and Barack Obama have showed their willingness to change their opinions over time in the face of facts; and neither one of them seemed blind to the realities of the world around them.

    I have hopes that this means our country is moving away from the myth that a rigid ideology is good. We have not been served well by the ideologues. Our current failure in Iraq seems to me to have resulted from our country’s inability to face the facts. The current global financial meltdown seems to me to have resulted from our country’s insistence on a rigid ideology of self-interest and selfishness, in the face of lots of evidence that that ideology was not effective. The real strength of American thinking has always been our reliance on pragmatism; and I have hopes that we are now turning away from ideology and towards pragmatism.

    Thus, in conclusion, I believe this election has been a historic election — at least, it has been historic insofar as it represents a change in our national mythos. We have witnessed at least three changes in our collective popular mythology:–

    First, as of January 20, we will have a president who is black, a president who is the son of an immigrant; we will have a black family living in the White House, a family that has historically provided images that help to shape our image of what it means to be an American. This is the biggest and most immediate change, a positive change in the evolving American mythology of who is a “real American.”

    Second, I believe we are witnessing a shift away from selfishness as the highest value. While we Unitarian Universalists value individual freedom, we also know that selfishness isn’t necessary for freedom, and we have been skeptical of the ultimate virtue of selfishness. Thus we welcome what appears to be a change in the evolving mythology of American individualism — a change away from mere individualistic selfishness, and towards individualism within an inescapable network of mutuality.

    Third, I believe we have witnessed the triumph of pragmatism over ideology. This movement away from blind obedience to a set of ideas will return us to our great strength as Americans, the strength of pragmatism.

    May all three of these changes lead us all further along the path of goodness and justice.

  • Duncan Howlett, Quiet Revolutionary

    This sermon was preached by Rev. Dan Harper at First Unitarian Church in New Bedford. As usual, the sermon below is a reading text. The actual sermon as preached contained more than the usual number of ad libs, interjections, and other improvisation. In addition, minor factual errors have been corrected in this text. Sermon copyright (c) 2008 Daniel Harper.

    Readings

    The first reading is from an undated typescript by Duncan Howlett in the church archives. In this essay, Howlett the question of what Unitarians “believe”:

    “No really satisfying answer to the question, ‘What is Unitarianism?’, is possible because of the assumptions that are implicit in the question itself. Alfred North Whitehead used to say, and I’m quoting, ‘If you cannot agree with a man’s conclusions, but cannot find anything wrong with the argument by which he reaches them, look at his premises — spoken or unspoken — admitted or unadmitted — and there you will find the answer to your question.’ I believe the difficulties we encounter [in] describing Unitarianism are found in the assumptions that we bring to the question itself….

    “Our error lies in the fact that we, like the orthodox [Christians], have always taken the creed structure of Christendom for granted. We have tried to explain ourselves in terms of it and apparently it has never occurred to us to do otherwise…. [But] You don’t say anything really significant about a Unitarian when you give a summary of the theological opinions he happens to hold….”

    And, later in the typescript, Howlett continues:

    “Unitarians, rejecting fixed creeds and confessions of faith, hold that the task of religion is to state its first principles, constantly to test the validity of those principles in open encounter where every voice may be heard, and to be ready to restate them whenever clarity requires. The Unitarians believe that truth in religion, as in all things, lies at the end of the process of inquiring. Every possible facet of human experience must be brought to bear upon such an inquiry if any approximation of truth is to be achieved as a result of it. Unitarians believe that religious differences between men [sic] ought to be measured by their belief in this process or by their lack of it.”

    The second reading comes from a sermon delivered by Howlett in 1941. A little background is necessary: In 1940, Howlett addressed the annual meeting of this congregation, the first minister of this church to be allowed to address an annual meeting for perhaps a century. In that address, Howlett had told the members of the annual meeting that he expected them to attend church on a regular basis. This apparently caused an uproar, and a year later, in this sermon, Howlett was still trying to explain himself. Characteristically, although he softened his words, he continued to strongly affirm his basic points, as we will hear in this excerpt. Howlett wrote:

    “We are growing steadily in every phase of our activity. This includes the congregation. And eventually, our normal growth will carry us to the point where this church will be comfortably full. But most of us do not want to wait for that time to come. We want now to have a congregation in this church that will make possible natural growth without losses.

    “…people will go to the church whose members believe in it, because they want to belong to a church of which they can be proud.

    “Our church can be that church. The congregation we have here this morning is testimony to the potential power we possess. There is no reason why we should not be a great church. There is no reasons why we should not enjoy the steady growth to which we are entitled. If each of us will realize the part which he [sic] can play in the whole task, it can easily be done….

    “People gravitate naturally to the church in which the members themselves believe. They want to be part of a church that is alive and growing, and that is able to command the loyalty of its adherents. The impression this church makes, its impact upon the community, depends far more upon the people than the minister. Let us be true to the greatness of this church in the past; let us realize its growing power in the present, and let us carry it to even greater things in the days to come. And having done so, our church shall become one of the greatest churches in this city and one of the largest in the denomination.”

    Sermon

    This morning, I propose to tell you three stories about Duncan Howlett, who was the minister of our church from 1938 to 1946. There can be no doubt that Howlett was the greatest minister this church had in the 20th C. Under his leadership, this church saw higher sustained Sunday attendance than at any other time in the past hundred years for which we have accurate records. We can include the 21st C. as well: Duncan Howlett stands head and shoulders above any minister of this congregation for over a hundred years. However, great ministers do not exist without great churches. Any story about Duncan Howlett’s ministry here must also be a story about the greatness of this congregation, so when I say I’m going to speak about Duncan Howlett, I’m also going to speak about this church.

    I am calling Duncan Howlett a “quiet revolutionary.” When I call him “quiet,” I don’t mean he was quiet in the sense of being mousy, or having a soft voice, or being a shrinking violet. When I say “quiet revolutionary,” I mean he was not the sort of revolutionary who wanted a sharp break with the past, or who wanted to stir things up just for the sake of stirring things up. Howlett was a revolutionary who looked for continual ongoing change because of his deepest religious beliefs.

    Howlett studied with Alfred North Whitehead, the great process theologian, and from his studies with Whitehead he learned to believe that change is inevitable. As he wrote in the first reading this morning, he believed that “the task of religion is to state its first principles, constantly to test the validity of those principles in open encounter where every voice may be heard, and to be ready to restate them whenever clarity requires.” That is to say, the world is constantly in a state of flux, and therefore the purpose of a religious community is to continually move forward. This theology of process, of continual change, was the deep religious belief that drove Duncan Howlett to be a quiet revolutionary.

    I’m going to tell you three interlocking stories about Duncan Howlett, beginning with his tenure here in New Bedford, and ending with his retirement in Maine. But I had better start by giving you a brief overview of his early life:

    He was born in Newton, Massachusetts, in 1906; and was the son of a “well-to-do-painting contractor” [profile of Howlett in Washington Post, August 27, 1983]. After graduating from Newton North High School, he went to Harvard College, graduated in 1928, went on to Harvard Law School, was admitted to the Massachusetts Bar in 1931 and practiced law for two years. In 1933, he entered Harvard Divinity School, where he studied with Alfred North Whitehead, graduating in 1936 with honors. While in divinity school, he began serving as the minister of Second Unitarian Church in Salem. In 1935, he traveled around the world, crossing from Europe into India via the famed Khyber Pass. (1) Our own church lured him away from the Salem church in 1938, and it is in our own church that my first story about Howlett takes place.

    When Duncan Howlett arrived here in 1938, our church was not exactly thriving. Sunday attendance had been declining since before the Great Depression — this decline took place even though most of New Bedford’s Universalists joined this church when First Universalist Church on William St. closed its doors in the 1930s. So why was attendance declining?

    One problem was that this church had maintained the old pew rental system that most New England churches abolished in the early twentieth century. In the early 19th C., many people owned pews here (literally owned the pew, for there were deeds and taxes); later, families no longer owned the pews, they rented them from the church. By 1938, most pews were rented by specific families, yet some of those families never came to church. Some people rented pews here, but were members of other churches! On Sunday mornings, the ushers closed the doors to the pews that were owned by various families. If you were a newcomer, you’d walk into this church, be placed into one of the few open pew, and look around and see all these empty pews that no one sat in, and that no one was allowed to sit in. It must have been a kind of spooky experience — pews full of ghosts that you couldn’t see! — and needless to say, most newcomers never returned. (2)

    Another problem lay in another old, outmoded way of doing things:– the minister was absolutely barred from taking part in the financial and business affairs of this church. Indeed, the minister was not even allowed to say anything at the annual congregational meeting. Back in the 18th C., this congregation was established by the Massachusetts Bay Colony government, and according to law, Massachusetts Bay and the town government had authority over the financial and business affairs of the congregation. Back then, Massachusetts Bay congregations consisted of two separate organizations: the society, which governed the business affairs such as the building and the salary of the minister and so on; and the church, which governed the religious affairs such as communion (yes, they had communion in those days), the church covenant, and church membership. In old Massachusetts churches, the church was governed by the minister and the deacons, while the society was governed, initially by local government, and after 1833 by a separate corporation. What happened in our congregation is that in the late 19th C., Rev. William Potter stopped communion, let the old covenant die off, and basically let the church wither away entirely; while the society remained strong.

    But by the 1930s, all the other Unitarian churches that I know of had abolished or greatly restricted pew rentals and ownnership; and they combined the old functions of the church and the society, so that the business and religious aspects of the congregation were more or less integrated. But Duncan Howlett arrived at this church to find the church side of the congregation had withered away, and on top of that he wasn’t even allowed to speak in front of the annual meeting of the society.

    As I have said, Howlett was a quiet revolutionary. He knew that times had changed, and were continuing to change. He got permission to address the annual meeting, and by all accounts he let them have it with both barrels. He told the members of the annual meeting that this church was more than a business venture that oversaw a historic building. He told them that it wasn’t enough to pay for a pew, and show up once a year for annual meeting. He told them that he expected every man Jack and every woman Jill of them to show up at church on a regular basis, and he told them in no uncertain terms. If you read the text of the talk he gave that annual meeting, you can see that he brought the whole of his Harvard Law training, and his Harvard Divinity School training, to bear on making his case.

    Apparently, he caused quite a ruckus — I mean, a genteel sort of ruckus, for this was a genteel church back in those days. At least seventy of the lay leaders agreed with him, and they formed a “Committee of Seventy,” and they called on every one of the three hundred and fifty members of the church. These lay leaders asked people to give up their pews, and requested they come regularly to Sunday morning worship. Duncan Howlett pointed out the problem; and a group of strong, dedicated lay leaders worked with him to bring our church out of the 19th C. and into the 20th C.

    Then the Second World War intervened. Howlett was in the middle of that, too — in the summer of 1939, he went to Europe to help Martha and Waitstill Sharp with their relief efforts in central Europe, and in November of 1940, he welcomed Rev. Maja Capek to New Bedford after she escaped from the Nazis, and he and this church supported her in her efforts to revive North Unitarian Church in the North End of this city. The Second World War put a temporary halt to the effort to make this church grow. And then, in 1946, the then-prestigious First Church in Boston hired Howlett away from us. (3)

    So ends my first little story about Duncan Howlett. I will only remark that everything Howlett did while he was here was consistent with his theology of process, of moving continually forward in an ever-changing world.

    Duncan Howlett stayed at First Church in Boston for a dozen years, and then All Souls Church in Washington D.C. called him. The famous A. Powell Davies had just retired as minister of All Souls. You probably haven’t heard of A. Powell Davies, but in those days he was well-known — the Washington newspapers held their Monday editions until they could get the manuscript of his Sunday sermon. All Souls was huge — something like 1500 members — and included several congressmen in its membership.

    Howlett stayed at All Souls for ten years. In that decade, he was active in fighting racism. He participated in Civil Rights marches in Alabama, Mississippi, and Washington. When James Reeb, the associate minister at All Souls, was beaten to death by racist white thugs in Selma, Alabama, in 1965, Howlett took a leave of absence to write Reeb’s biography — a book which is still in print more than forty years later. In 1968, he expressed sympathy for the Black Power movement. One Washington newspaper did a poll which indicated that Howlett was one of the five most-trusted white men among the African Americans of the city.

    Remember that Howlett’s religious faith was founded on his theology of process, on his belief that we must continually forward in an ever-changing world. Thus it was entirely consistent with Howlett’s religious faith when, in 1968, he resigned as minister of All Souls, saying he wanted to make way for an African American minister to take charge of that church. The Washington Post reported on Howlett’s resignation, and I’d like to read you an excerpt from the March 24, 1968, edition of that newspaper:

    “The Rev. Dr. Duncan Howlett, a civil-rights leader here and a national figure in the Unitarian Universalist denomination, resigned yesterday as minister of All Souls’ Church to make way for a Negro minister.

    “Unitarian Universalists, in the forefront of white liberalism, have yet to call a Negro to the pulpit of one of their churches….

    “With a membership of nearly 1500, a budget of $173,000 [that’s over one million in today’s dollars], and an endowment of $1.4 million [that’s 8.2 million in today’s dollars], All Souls is one of the more vigorous churches in the denomination. Dr. Howlett has been its minister since December, 1958, when he succeeded the Rev. Dr. A. Powell Davies.

    “ ‘One of the strongest motives in my stepping down,’ he said in his resignation sermon, ‘is the conviction that All Souls’ Church can and should take the lead in integrating the ministry of our Unitarian churches.’

    “All Souls’ doing this, he said, ‘would be one more breakthrough for the Negro into leadership in American culture.’

    “The first major church in Washington to have an integrated membership, All Souls has had a Negro director of its school of religion, and Negroes in other leadership capacities. The first integrated police boys’ club in Washington meets there.

    “Dr. Howlett did not suggest a particular Negro candidate to succeed him.” (4)

    Duncan Howlett saw that the world was changing, and he saw that white men like him who were in positions of leadership would have to step aside to make room for people of color to take on leadership roles. So he stepped aside. That was a quietly revolutionary act.

    All Souls Church in Washington did in fact call an African American minister. It remains a big, powerful city church, with a racially integrated membership — last time I was there, it looked to me that the church was about half white, half black, and half a mix of other skin colors and racial identities. So many urban churches have seen slipping membership in the past half century, but not All Souls Church in Washington.

    I like to imagine what would have happened had Howlett stayed here through the 1960s, and had resigned from this church in 1968 to make way for a person of color to become minister of this church. Would that have made an impact on the wider racial unrest that was happening in this city back then? Would this church have become even more racially integrated than it is now? I have no idea, but it’s fun to think about. (And I suspect someone else from this church has imagined the same thing, because why else would I find that Washington Post clipping about Howlett resigning upstairs in our church’s archives?)

    Let me continue on with a third, very short story about Duncan Howlett. When he left All Souls, he retired and went on to a new project. He moved to Center Lovell, Maine, where he and his wife had purchased on old farm, and he proceeded to manage that farm as a forest. He was an early believer in the environmental movement, and he believed that a good way to maintain the natural environment was through sustainable management practices. He disapproved of the timber industry’s forestry practices, which tended to degrade the woodlands, rather than improve them; and he managed his own woodlands with sustainable management practices. Ever the organizer, in 1975 Howlett organized the Small Woodlot Owners Association of Maine, to further his goal of sustainable management of forests. (5)

    Moving from anti-racism to environmentalism might seem like a radical change of direction for Duncan Howlett, but I don’t see it that way. Remember that Howlett’s religious faith was founded on his theology of process, on his belief that we must continually forward in an ever-changing world. He saw that caring for the environment was going to be the next big issue that we had to face. Given his religious faith, it should be no surprise that he felt he had to address this newly emerging problem.

    Duncan Howlett believed that the truth in religion lies in an ongoing process of inquiry. He continually tested the validity of his principles in an open process of inquiry. He saw that our church here in New Bedford had to abolish pew rentals, and he worked with lay leaders to make that happen. He saw that All Souls Church in Washington, D.C., should have an African American minister, and he provided leadership to make that happen. Then in retirement he saw that environmental problems had to be addressed, and he did what he could to promote sustainable land use practices.

    He was a quiet revolutionary, someone who continually challenged the validity of his and other people’s principles. He did not run away from change, but he embraced it. He was a visionary leader who made things happen, sometimes through unorthodox means. As a quiet revolutionary, he pushed others beyond what they felt comfortable doing. And his leadership got results:

    The Small Woodlot Owners Association of Maine continues to promote the combined goals of protecting Maine’s woodlands resources while encouraging optimal sustainable productivity through good forestry practices. SWOAM established a public land trust in 1990, and the first girt of land they received was 300 acres of Duncan Howlett’s forest. (6)

    All Souls Church remains a big, powerful, racially integrated urban church. They have continued to move forward, and they now have two ministers, one of whom is white, the other of whom is black.

    And our own church thrived after Howlett left. The lay leaders modernized the way this church operated. By the early 1950s, our Sunday attendance had skyrocketed, with two worship services and a huge Sunday school. The only thing that stopped our continued growth was a systemic problem called “the pastoral to program size transition” — but that’s another story, one which I will tell in another sermon later this fall.

    Even though we have not yet become a big church, we continue in the belief that we share with Duncan Howlett: that we must continually move forward in an ever-changing world. We are more racially integrated that most other Unitarian Universalist congregations — we still have a way to go before we’re fully integrated, but we are moving forward. Many of our members are involved in sustainability, and if you go to the Bioneers sustainability conference here in New Bedford October 24-26, you’ll see lots of our members there. And we have taken on issues that Howlett never dreamed of — for example, we were strong advocates for legalizing same sex marriage here in Massachusetts.

    May we continue to be influenced by Duncan Howlett’s theology of process. May we continue to move ever forward in an ever-changing world.

    Notes

    (1) Biographical information from a typescript written by Howlett in the First Unitarian archives.
    (2) Information from the second half of this paragraph from Howlett’s 1941 sermon.
    (3) Information in this paragraph from documents and newspaper clippings in the church archives.
    (4) “Pastor quits, opens way for Negro” by Kenneth Dole, Washington Post, 24 March, 1968, pp. A1 and A5.
    (5) From a 1983 clipping in the church archive from the Washington Post.
    (6) According to the SWOAM Web site, accessed 2 October 2008.